In a burrow a snake lies
to itself
about its health,
if lids could cover its eyes
then maybe that would help.
But scales have formed
where human lids
grow on kids,
and shivers have wormed
their way through its body.
When the time finally comes
to shed its skin
what's left within?
Will life's pleasant hums
attract it outside?
Or will the cycle start again?
What was soft, scaly, and thin
has hardened
against the cruel nature I've yet to pen.
The snake always leaves behind its skin.